The Many Uses of Spoons
I caught an episode of Dr. Phil. In videotaped clip, I watched his guest walk into the kitchen stand next to the refrigerator and ask her maid for a yogurt. She then turned, left the kitchen for seating underneath a patio umbrella and waited for her requested yogurt. The maid stopped what she was doing, walked to the very refrigerator the hungry woman previously stood next to, and then removed the requested snack. The next clip showed the maid with plated yogurt serving the woman on the patio. Dr. Phil stopped videotape and looked to his guest for an answer. The guest excused her behavior by saying she feels cared for when others do things for her. Dr. Phil noted the woman could have consumed the yogurt in the time it took her to find the maid, request the snack and wait for the snack. I flipped channels soon after.
As I surfed, I chuckled and I mused. I wondered how long it would take someone like the maid in the Dr. Phil clip, to crack and rebel in her own way. I wondered, when the cameras had stopped filming, if the maid might have abused her abuser. I wondered what sweaty orifice the maid might have ran the spoon over before lovingly plating it aside the yogurt. Did the maid have time to open a few blouse buttons and wedge the silver utensil into her arm pit. Or did she possibly use the spoon to dig a little lint out of her belly button. If the maid wore slip on shoes she might have been able to shove the spoon in between support hose and bunion-ed toes just before offering it up to her boss: the boss that is so insecure and empty she needs to misuse her position over others to proclaim her own worthiness in the world.
My guests at the brewhouse are not at all desperate or empty. I look forward to seeing them and talking to them and doing things for them. I’m very happy about that. Also, I don’t wear slip on shoes.